Damaged Armor
by Zion Angel
Summary: Tony returns from a mission in less than perfect shape, and Pepper realizes that they cannot continue like this. She tells him she loves him, and everything changes.


Okay, so I just had the idea for this, and I've been writing it for a couple of days now. Not sure how it got so long, but that's just more to enjoy.

Be warned: this is a smutfic, and it gets explicit. Proceed accordingly.

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Damaged Armor

By ZionAngel

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She isn't sure how much more of this she can take.

She is already waiting in the workshop when he flies in. She rushed down there as soon as Jarvis told her he was on his way. The minutes she was forced to wait brought back a painful burn of fear in her chest - right where her own arc reactor would be - searing through her. She plays this terrifying waiting game every time he goes on a mission, and she has begun to think that one day it will sear all the way down to her heart and kill her.

His landing is less than perfect, off just so - no one else in the world would see it, but she does. He stumbles through the air as he comes to the center of the floor, and she notices that he wobbles the tiniest bit as he waits for the machines to rise from the floor and free him from his damaged suit. She stares at the scratches and dents, burn marks and bullet holes as she slowly walks toward the mass of shifting metal parts.

_He can see her moving toward him behind the mechanical arms. Silence accompanies the motion, and he wonders how long ago she took off her heels. He learned months ago that she only does that when she is worrying about him - he had guessed that even _her_ feet begin to hurt if she paces in those shoes long enough. He feels the guilt well up in him at the silent footsteps - they are more and more common these days. He smiles at her, or tries to, as an apology and a reassurance. The guilt becomes almost unbearable when her face maintains the same artificial poise and resolutely clenched jaw._

_He hates that he hurts her like this._

The damn armor won't come off. The backpiece is dented onto the left sleeve, and he asks for her help. As the machines move out of her way, she hates him for it, because she sees the size of the dent and the scorched metal and the paint is all gone there, and as much as she tries to control her mind, an image of what kind of weapon could have done that floods her mind. She gently pries the sleeve out from underneath the back, and feeling the damage with her fingers only strengthens the image in her mind. When the metal is free, she steps back and lets the machines continue.

She stares at a slight burn on the back of his neck before the thought of what so easily could have been - tonight and every mission before - attacks her with its full strength and she feels something in her break, something that, up until now, had only ever dented like his armor. Somehow, tonight is different. Maybe something about the damage and his injuries is different, or maybe this is just the last straw, the one last hit that is needed to strike her down. Either way, in an instant, everything changes and she can no longer pretend that she can take this.

_The moment he catches her in the corner of his vision, as she walks away from him and clearly refuses to look his way, he knows something is wrong. More wrong than every other time he has come back from a mission. He knows he will not face a lecture when he is finally out of the suit, nor any frantic, motherly worry, or even a frustrated assistant, mad for having to reschedule two days of meetings yet again. He truly cannot guess what will happen as he steps away from the machines in only the flight undersuit - slightly damaged, but it has mostly served its purpose - and calls her name softly across the room. She keeps her back to him, and does not respond._

_He isn't sure what to do. Her silence, the tension gripping every muscle in her body is terrifying him. He finds himself involuntarily reverting to his old methods of confronting something he fears. "Well, the silent treatment is certainly a new way to get back at me, but I think you can do better, Miss Potts."_

_The only reply he receives is a choked sob ripping from her body._

She had tried to keep it in, tried so damn hard. The only part of her that was still intact was her dying control, still clinging to life enough to keep her mouth silent and her eyes dry. His joke, if it could even be called that, killed that control, and everything came out in a rush, and now she knows there is no hope of stopping it until it either all drains out or kills her, too.

She sobs breathlessly, and she wants more than anything to run away from here, from him - the cause of her terrified agony and the only thing that could ever hope to make it better - but she just can't move.

"Pepper," he calls, and she can hear the panic in his voice as he runs to her. "Pepper, Pepper Pepper - " She feels the air shift across her shoulder as he reaches out to touch her, but she jerks forward and finally turns to him before he makes contact.

"I can't, Tony, I can't -" she sobs, holding her hands up to keep him away. "I can't be this afraid anymore, I just can't take it -" She gasps for air, feeling her tears run down her cheeks and chin before they fall.

_His frantic mind can only understand her statement in one way, and he prays he is wrong. She can't quit, she can't leave him. He has never been able to bring himself to think about what losing her would entail, but deep down he knows, and it is absolutely not an option._

_"What, Pepper, what do you mean - what can't you take?"_

"This!" she screams. She feels her face flush red with anger and fear and frustration as the tears fall even faster. She doesn't know exactly what part of 'this' she is referring to - it's a whole system of things, but one of them, somewhere, is doing her in. "This whole thing, whatever the hell it is, this isn't working, Tony!" Her eyes lock with his, desperate to make him understand and to find anything she might hold onto, anything that might keep her from drowning in her own tears and pain and fear. "I can't keep doing this - waiting every time you leave without telling me and all I can ever do is just _sit_ here and be afraid and I - I can't keep being terrified about what's going to happen to you, Tony!" She sobs and tries to catch her breath and she can't but she can't stop speaking, either. "I can't lose you, Tony, I love you and I couldn't take it if anything ever - and it kills me every time you go, and I can't _do this_ -"

_His heart is breaking as he listens to her, and he knows it is his fault and he hates himself for not seeing what this was doing to her. But he's frozen by her fear and her pain and he's afraid that if he does anything - touches her, speaks - she'll shatter and he won't be able to pick up the pieces. He wants to tell her so much, that he's here, he's alive, he's safe he's careful he's never going to leave her - but her words are too fast, and his mind is too slow. And then she says something else, those three little words - eight letters that meant everything - that he has always longed to hear, that she has whispered in his dreams, and she says it so fast that he almost doesn't catch it but it changes everything. He isn't sure how it changes things, if he had just been waiting for her until now, if he had believed she could never love him - but it doesn't matter, because it's all different by the time the last syllable leaves her trembling lips. Somehow he knows that he can put her back together before she even breaks, and he feels his heart driving him forward until he's there, with one hand caught in her hair and the other clutching desperately at her waist as he pulls her against him and kisses her. He can taste the salty tears on her lips. All he knows in that moment is that he loves her and he doesn't want her to feel this agony and even if he can't think of anything else to do, he wants her, heart and soul._

At first all she can comprehend is that she can no longer speak. But her confusion lasts only a split second before she feels the soft heat and pressure against her lips, and when she feels the arms holding her tightly against a warm torso and the fluttering of a heart that is not her own, she finally realizes that he is kissing her.

Her body tenses suddenly, involuntarily - she doesn't fully understand what's going on and something flashes through her mind about him being her boss, but she can't grasp it before its gone, and it's new and strange and that scares her - but the tears stop instantly and completely, and the droplets left on her face dry quickly. Her hands find their way to his chest, pushing halfheartedly, and her lips part slightly in the first stage of a protest. But he must take this as encouragement, because he deepens the kiss, gently but insistently probing her tongue with his - or maybe he knows that she is trying to push him away and doesn't care and is kissing her more and more passionately every second because he wants to. She knows he is not trying to take advantage of her, because even the old bastard he once was would not go that far; so why is he doing this if not -

Her mind plays back the words she said not ten seconds before, and she realizes that something slipped, something she had never had the courage to say before. As her arms slacken and she stops pushing against him, she feels a prayer drift from her heart, that this is what she thinks it is, and she finally gives in. Her hands slide up to his neck, his hair, his cheek that has a few day's growth beneath her fingertips. Her mind briefly wonders why she was protesting something that she had wanted and dreamed of and fantasized about (at some very inopportune moments) for many, many months. And now her open mouth _is_ an encouragement, and she holds him close as she surrenders to the kiss that feels so damn _good_, surrenders to her love, her want and her need, to the undeniable proof that, for now at least, he is alive and well.

_He sighs, almost in relief, as she finally begins to kiss him back, moving her lips and tongue, threading her fingers through his hair and tugging gently, and pressing her body to his, the pressure increasing for a moment each time she draws a breath. He moves his hand away from her neck and slowly drags it downward, savoring the smooth arch of her back, even through two layers of fabric._

_He is so entirely consumed by the kiss and her warm body and the absolute relief of knowing that she loves him that they are halfway across the workroom before he even realizes they had begun to move. He has no idea who took the first step, who is leading them towards the elevator, and his mind is far too elated to care. He moves with her, caressing her back with his hands and her lips with his tongue. After a few more moments of this, he glances up and sees the silver doors of the elevator only a few feet away, gently backs her up against them, and hits the call button without looking._

_Their bodies are pressed even tighter together this way, and he can feel the curve of her breasts against his chest and his erection pressed in the dip between her hip and thigh, and he inhales sharply at the sensation of both. But it is gone in an instant as the doors slide open and she stumbles back. They separate as she tries to catch her balance, and he grips her waist to hold her steady. Their eyes meet for the first time since the kiss began, and with all the fire and passion and love in them, they are more unbearably beautiful than he has ever seen them. Her breath comes fast and heavy as she pulls him back into the elevator. He follows, and he is finally certain that she is thinking exactly what he is when she pushes the button for the floor of his bedroom._

_He pushes her up against the wall - not so gently, this time - as the doors slide closed and they begin to move. She is panting heavily, both from their kiss and from the crying before, and he can't stop his eyes from drinking in the rise and fall of her chest. But he misses her warmth too much to stare for long, and he quickly presses her to the wall again. He kisses the pulse in her neck and threads a hand through her hair on the other side, giving her a chance to catch her breath as he leaves a trail of every kind of kiss down her neck and onto the curve of her shoulder. He gently bites the edge of her collar bone, and moves back up the way he came, kissing up her neck until he reaches her ear, where he stops._

_He breathes in the intoxicating scent of her hair and smiles. As much as he had longed to hear these words from her, the desire to whisper them to her himself has been far stronger. "Pepper," he sighs, stroking the back of her neck. "I love you, Pepper." The quiet gasp she gives in response is quite possibly the most beautiful sound he has ever heard._

His lips leave a trail of fire across her skin as he savors her neck and shoulder, and she wonders if he knows that he is only making it harder for her to catch her breath. She feels the heat of his mouth and his body seeping into her, through her clothes and skin and down to her core, and it is so vastly different from the burning fear that gripped her heart just a few minutes ago. This heat is comforting and good and erotic and - as he nuzzles against her ear and speaks - full of pure love.

As he whispers the words to her, his breath sliding across her ear and neck, she feels the last of her fear and pain burn away, and all that is left is her love and his love and this wonderful heat, all building and spreading inside her until she is so filled with them that she thinks she might burst. She holds on to him tightly, her fingers clutching the high-tech fabric of his flight suit as best they can, wanting it gone so that their bodies can finally meld together.

She hears a swish and then a small blast of cool air washes over them, bringing her out of her reverie. He has gone back to lighting fire to her flesh and doesn't notice, so she pushes herself away from the wall and backs him out of the elevator. From there, it is only a few strides to his bedroom door.

Inside, the only light comes from the full moon, shining through the windows and reflecting off of the sea below, and from the arc reactor, glowing in the special hole in the suit. She pulls back from him just slightly to examine the device - not in admiration at the technological marvel it is, nor as an object of curiosity, but only as an extension of his body, as much a part of him as his eyes or smile, or the heart it protects.

His hands wait on her hips, rubbing circles over her skirt and squeezing tightly, and suddenly the heat and love flowing through her reach the breaking point. She meets his eyes again, finding them filled with desire and passion, and the same heat and love, and it is only a matter of who will be spurred into action first.

_Before he even realizes what he is doing, his mouth is devouring hers again and his hands are tugging open the top button of her jacket. Although a part of him protests that four buttons is too many, he has them all undone in seconds, and wastes no time pushing the jacket off her arms and down to the floor, forgotten immediately. He runs his hands over her newly exposed skin, reveling in its softness as he already starts to think of what comes off next._

_But she beats him to it, and her fingers find the tiny zipper at the side of his neck, and pull down until his shirt hangs open. Her gentle, petite, life-saving hands slide underneath and across his chest, pausing over the left side and touching more firmly to feel his racing heartbeat. She smiles and slides the thick fabric over his shoulders, and her lips immediately take its place, beginning her kisses on the right - as she tugs the tight sleeves away from his forearms and wrists - then moves to the center, her bottom lip brushing the reactor. As she continues on to the left side, pressing several insistent kisses above his heart, her bare arms wrap around him, stroking and massaging everything she can find - shoulders, back, ribs and abdomen. A groan escapes his throat, and he lifts her head to kiss her fiercely as he pushes her in the general direction of the bed._

_Her right arm slides up his back, wrapping around his shoulders while the other squeezes his arm tightly to keep her balance as he moves her backwards. His hands grasp at the smooth fabric of her shirt, trying to get a solid grip on it so he can pull it out of her skirt. Having little success, he reaches around to her lower back and tugs the skirt's zipper down. He slips his hand down and finally grips the hem and tugs, pulling away from her just far enough to lift it over her head and toss it aside. He doesn't bring her back immediately - he holds her at arm's length with his strong hands at her waist, running his eyes across her body and loving the sight of her shoulders, chest, the simple black bra, the smooth skin of her stomach and the curves of her hips._

She feels her face and chest flush at the look he's giving her, the way he's devouring her with only his eyes but making her feel like he's touching her. She wonders if he notices the sudden pink tint of her flesh, and her breathing becomes shallow and raspy as his eyes travel back up to meet hers. She loves the way those eyes make her heart flutter wildly and her chest tighten. She wants to feel that even more, to make him drag those eyes across her again, and with a sudden boldness, she pulls back from him, and gives her skirt one push to send it to the floor. His eyes trail down her legs hungrily as she takes a few more steps back toward the bed, and when he begins to look back up, she reaches behind her back to unhook her bra. She inhales a ragged breath as she pulls off the undergarment, letting it slip out of her fingers at its own leisure.

If he didn't notice the pink shade, he most certainly sees the bright red flush that spreads over her skin now, even in the moonlight. She gets the reaction she wanted - and more - and her heart feels like it is about to pound out of her chest as he as rushes toward her, crushes his lips against hers, presses their bare chests together, and slides his hands to the back of her thighs. She lets him lift her up, and wraps her legs tightly around his waist as he carries her the remaining steps to the bed. When they reach it, he holds one arm tightly around her waist as he crawls over the blanket, setting her down on top of the plush pillows. He rests on top of her for a few minutes, and they kiss the way they did before, slow and deep, with their tongues mingling as their hands run across every inch of the other's skin they can reach. The smooth cover of the arc reactor is comfortably and sensuously warm between her breasts.

_He shifts on top of her slightly, to better feel her breasts and stomach and every other part of her almost completely naked body against his. He runs his hand down the right side of her body, keeping his pace as torturously slow as he can, and she writhes beneath his touch. He caresses the side of her breast, then her ribs and sides - he is thrilled to find her skin even softer than he had ever imagined or dreamt it would be - and he plays with the lace at the top of her black panties before stroking his hand over the leg still encircling his waist._

_She responds to his touch with one of her own, sliding her hand between their bodies, down his stomach and to the top of his pants, where she hunts for another zipper. Her fingers brush against his erection as she searches and it makes his breath catch in his throat. He is spurred into action by the sudden need to feel more of her, all of her, to melt into her as completely as humanly possible._

She whimpers quietly as he pulls his mouth away from hers, and she clutches at his shoulders, attempting to pull him back down. But before she can gather herself together enough to speak a protest, he shifts above her to begin trailing kisses down the length of her chest. He follows a seemingly random pattern, pressing his lips to whatever spot interests him the most. But she soon realizes that nothing he does is an accident, and that his path is deliberate, his lips moving slowly downward to her right breast. Her whole body tenses and her fingers dig through his hair as he finally brushes his lips against the hyper-sensitive skin of one breast, while his hand moves up to firmly massage the other.

Her breathing becomes shallow and uneven as he lingers at her chest for a moment. But as incredible as his fingertips and mouth feels, they are only making the heat concentrate even more between her legs. She gasps his name and rubs her bent leg against his side. Finally he concedes, pressing a brief kiss between her breasts before rising off of her to rid himself of the lower half of the suit. She is more than willing to sacrifice a few moments of his warmth for that.

She watches him as he kneels at the foot of the bed, taking the moment to admire every part of him that she can see. The light of the moon and the reactor cast faint shadows across his muscles. He returned from Afghanistan far more toned than he had been before, and it had only improved with use of the suit. She had noticed, and it took all of her self-control and professionalism to keep from staring like this every time she went to talk to him in the workroom and found him in one of those tight t-shirts. Her hands clutch at the comforter, silently begging him to hurry up with the boots and pants.

_He glances up at her face as he tugs off the second boot, and finding her gazing at him the way he had stared at her moments before only drives him faster. He stands just long enough to shed his last piece of clothing and then he returns to the bed, hovering above her. He gives her a little smile, knowing that she can see the desire in his eyes, before he leans down and places two kisses above her navel, and one below, and slips his fingers into the lace waistband of her panties. She raises her hips slightly to let him slide them down her legs, and she kicks them away when they reach her feet._

_He kisses his way back up her leg, moving from her ankle to knee to hip, up the line in the center of her abdomen, up her chest and neck, savoring the taste of her skin and the way no part of her is softer than her lips. As he settles his body comfortably over hers, their eyes lock, and he is mesmerized by the dark blue irises that shine in the dim moonlight. He doesn't think he has ever loved her as much as he does at this very moment, with her soul and all her love and everything that makes him adore her laid bare, holding her in his arms and knowing that she feels everything that he does. The fire coursing through his blood finally undoes him, and with a fierce kiss he thrusts into her._

_She gasps into the kiss and her legs quickly wrapping themselves high around his waist, pulling him deeper inside. He grins against her lips, at both her reaction and the incredible pleasure of finally being with her. She tilts her hips down and grips his shoulders with a strength he didn't know she possessed, telling him she wants him to _move_, and he can't agree more. He takes a deep breath and slowly withdraws, and with a quick push buries himself back inside her._

Their bodies quickly find a slow rhythm, their hips meeting in rolling thrusts that send wave after wave of pleasure through every inch of her body. His mouth moves away from hers and then it feels as though it's everywhere else all at once. Her shallow breathing returns, and she vaguely realizes that she is inhaling in time with his thrusts.

She can't keep her hands still, and runs them over his arms, chest, back, and anything and everything else that she can reach. He is kissing the small hollow between her shoulder and chest when she slides her fingers down the length of his spin and back up again, and his groan makes his lips vibrate against her skin.

Their pace begins to increase, each thrust a little deeper and harder than the last. She feels the pleasure slowly building inside her, and her love and the sensations are all tying in knots around her core. She can vaguely focus her mind on the thought that she has been an utter fool to deny herself this, to spend months ignoring feelings after years of being oblivious to them. She loves him, he loves her - and that's as far as the thought goes before his lips press hard against hers and a hand comes up to stroke her neck and cheek.

The rest of the world becomes hazy, everything but him and her and what she feels between them fade into a meaningless fog. She feels the knots inside of her tightening into a wonderful sort of agony. Her arms slide beneath his and wrap tightly around him, and her fingers dig deep into his muscles. She is still being bombarded with every kind of pleasure, from his mouth and his hands and his body and every cell of his skin that is touching hers - and suddenly every muscle in her body tightens. She tears her mouth away from his and with one sharp breath, the knots all release at once and she holds him with all her strength as her orgasm rushes through her.

_The pressure of her arms and legs wrapped around him and squeezing with all her strength, the muscles inside her tightening as she comes, the sound of her breathing and the taste of her skin as he kisses her neck are like nothing he has ever felt before. No other woman has ever been like her, in bed or out, and he is quite certain he knows why. He stays with her, keeping his pace as her breathing slows only slightly. Her legs stay where they are, still pressing into his lower back and keeping him deep inside her. She threads one hand through his hair, and her still-quick breath brushes against his ear as she kisses the side of his jaw. He brushes a thin sheen of sweat from her temple, and she turns her face up to him. The look in her eyes is completely intoxicating - that dizzy, tired look that is filled with love and ecstasy. It has always been her eyes that do him in, and now is no different. He feels his body tensing rapidly, and he keeps his eyes locked with hers as one last, hard thrust sends him over the edge._

He rests across her chest, his head nestled against her shoulder as he lets his racing heart slow. She lays one palm flat over his back, where she can feel it beating, and the other gently strokes up and down his arm. The world still consists of them and the haze, and her mind is flooded with relief and happiness and the love she has finally let herself release, and she is perfectly content to let everything stay this way forever.

After a few moments, when his heart has slowed a little, he lifts his head and finds her eyes, watching them intently, as if he's looking for something. As he reaches up to brush a strand of hair from her face, his eyes tilt towards the light, and she has never seen them so peaceful. There is not even the tiniest trace of fear or worry or the darkness that so often follows him when he returns from a mission. As she looks closely, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes is a blend of happiness and love, and she shivers as she thinks of how her whole world - his whole world, too - has changed in a matter of minutes. Suddenly, she realizes that _this_ is what was not working, what was doing her in. They were keeping their hearts locked away, and with what he had to do and what it put her through, that simply would not work - only this would.

"Pepper," he says quietly, in that soft voice she can finally let herself adore. He rests his forehead against hers, and sighs. "I meant it. What I said. I love you."

She is still watching his eyes, and it is the look she sees there that proves it to her, that he truly does mean it. She sighs, letting her eyes drift closed as she tilts her head up to brush her lips to his. "I love you, Tony."


End file.
